I Don't Want To Miss A Thing
by theslytherinrose
Summary: Aware that the Dark Lord's return means his life is about to become much less peaceful, Lucius takes time to enjoy lying with Narcissa. [Post-GoF. T for implications.]


**A/N: I decided to do another drabble, from Lucius's POV, this time. This was inspired by the Aerosmith song it shares a title with (then there's the fact that he was also in _Armageddon_ , but that's neither here nor there). Reviews and comments are always much appreciated. **

* * *

Everything was about to change, and Lucius was unprepared.

For the first time in thirteen years, he'd felt the burning of the Dark Mark on his arm, and he'd known that life as he knew it was at an end. The relative peace—Draco's school complaints and Fudge's idiocy aside—of the last thirteen years was about to come crashing down to reveal something Lucius believed would be much worse than the chaos that had surrounded him beforehand. The Dark Lord was _alive_ , contrary to what Lucius had told everyone including himself since he'd sworn he'd only acted under the Imperius Curse and managed to avoid time in Azkaban after that fateful night in 1981 had delivered control of Lucius's life back into his own hands.

That control had already begun to slip away, he could feel it. The Dark Lord had been angry that Lucius hadn't tried harder to find him, and Lucius couldn't imagine how he would be punished for this, only that he would.

For now, though… that was a thought for another time.

He let out a long sigh, and as his bare chest fell, so did the woman whose head rested on it, her blond waves tickling his skin. Narcissa had fallen asleep an hour or so previously, and though exhaustion weighed heavily on Lucius's mind and body, he was trying hard not to do the same.

He wanted to memorize this.

Soon, life would once again be thrown into chaos, but right now, he had peace. He had _her._

He tightened the arm he'd wrapped around her waist and lifted his other hand to shift a lock of hair from where it had fallen in her face, catching sight as he did so of a smile that must've been on her lips as she'd drifted into sleep. Seeing it there brought a faint smile to his own face despite his worries. He'd always found her indescribably beautiful, but particularly so when she smiled. For what would be seventeen years when July arrived—longer, were he to count the time before their marriage—he'd done everything within his considerable range of power to make her happy, to keep her safe.

 _Safety_ , he thought. _What a fragile thing that is._

He felt the steady beating of her heart against his skin, and he realized fully for what might have been the first time exactly how grateful he was for it. When he'd fought for the Dark Lord before, Lucius had found himself surrounded constantly by danger and peril. He had also been young and reckless. His name had eventually been called into question by the Ministry, and though he'd been cleared of guilt, he had to wonder how many others had suspected him of involvement with the Death Eaters. Had any of them a mind to, they could've very well attacked him at any point since. Or attacked Narcissa. Or Draco.

 _But no one did,_ Lucius reminded himself. _We're fine._

He ran his fingers through Narcissa's hair softly, trying not to disturb her. _For right now, we're perfectly fine._ He knew she was even more worried about what the Dark Lord's return would bring than he was, which he wouldn't have believed possible, had he not known her. But he'd requested that they not speak on the subject again until it was absolutely necessary in the hope that this would help them maintain some semblance of normalcy, for the time being. This had led to an evening of each trying to think of ways to make the other happy, to coax a laugh or steal a kiss and think only of the present instead of what the future might hold.

In this moment, as he lay watching Narcissa, Lucius resolved to be happy. It didn't matter what was coming, because right now, the only sound was that of his wife's breath and the only feeling that of the warmth of her embrace as the arm she'd wrapped around him shifted, her hand tightening on his shoulder in her sleep and then relaxing again. The longer he lay here with her, he believed, the better the chance he would be able to refrain from losing his mind.

His eyes ached for rest, but he refused to let them close for longer than to blink. _Just a few minutes more,_ he told himself, though he knew it was a lie.


End file.
